


Here, Holding Hope

by somnivagrantTraviatus



Series: Undergods [2]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reapertale, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-08
Updated: 2016-02-08
Packaged: 2018-05-19 05:07:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5954710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somnivagrantTraviatus/pseuds/somnivagrantTraviatus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Toriel recalls her past.</p><p>Inspired by and based off of Renrink's Reapertale AU, this fic is set in the same 'verse as my other fic, <i><span class="u">We Without Wings</span></i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Here, Holding Hope

If she tried, she could still remember how it had been when she was young.

She remembered green, green, green, days passing in the happy way they do when the viewer has no concept of time, or anything other than happiness. Days were easier, then, when doing her job just meant dancing invisibly through the flowers and bringing life to the world and its creatures. Even when the war came, it wasn't so bad; her powers only told her when one of her creations was snuffed out, not how or when or why. They were just humans, or they were just monsters, and though she watched them from afar, their passings were no more to her than a cold wind. And even then, there was life. She contented herself with the new births and ignored the rest.

But then the monsters were sealed under the mountain, and she felt only sadness and despair from her subjects. As hope left them, more and more of her creations fell, until her mood became one of sorrow. The situation seemed unsolvable, and though she didn't truly care about their plight, she grieved for the inevitable time when the last monster’s HoPes would reach zero, and the species would be no more.

But the monsters’ monarchs loved each other still, and when the time came, she breathed the spark their love created into the flame of life. The rulers named him Asgore, and as the young prince grew, so too did the hopes of all who saw him. The first monster born since they had been banished to the Underground, Asgore’s cheery presence and contagious smile reassured his subjects that life underground could still be worth living.

Asgore mesmerized her. He was no different than any of her other subjects, and yet everywhere he went, he made life stronger, brighter, more vivid. He planted seeds in the rocky soil his parents had optimistically called a “garden”, and when they grew, he continued to take care of them. Though she didn't have a body, her presence watched him, and wondered, _if I took care of them the way he takes care of the flowers, would my subjects grow as strong?_

She made up her mind. Making herself a body was no trouble at all, so she did, placing herself right in the middle of the prince’s garden. Closing her new eyes, she let her connection to the world fade away, tuning in only to the flowers she sat in front of. They were strong and hardy, growing without problems despite the lack of sunlight. Compared to them, her own flowers were like spun glass, she realized.

When she blinked her eyes open, he was standing there, mouth open. “You were glowing,” he said wonderingly.

She stomped up to him, pleased when he took a step back, and poked him in the chest. “Tell me how you do it.”

He blinked. “Do what?”

“You know!” She poked him again. “The flowers. Tell me how you grow ‘em so good.”

“Well,” he corrected. “Grow them so well.” When she glared at him, he gave an apologetic wince. “Sorry. Dr. Gaster keeps correcting my language. I guess it's contagious.”

She stamped her foot. “I don't care about how to say stuff, I care about how you make the flowers grow! Tell me how you do it.”

He laughed, raising his hands protectively in case she tried to poke him again. “Okay, okay! But first, you gotta tell me your name.”

“I don't have one.”

Without missing a beat, the other replied, “Howdy, I Don't Have One! I'm Asgore.” When she didn't respond, he explained, “It's funny, see, because you were saying you didn't have a name, but I purposefully misinterpreted that to mean that your name was I Don't Have One. Get it? It's a joke.”

She just blinked at him. Finally, he gave an awkward laugh, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I guess it wasn't that funny. Still, you have to have some kind of name, right? What do your parents call you?

“What are parents?”

He stared at her. “Parents are the people who love and care about you the most! You've gotta have somebody like that, right?”

Slowly, she shook her head.

His mouth set in a firm line, and he grabbed her hand. “Well, then you're just gonna have to meet mine! C’mon, I can introduce you.”

Overwhelmed by the contact, she let herself be dragged out of the garden and into the castle.

\---

His parents welcomed her with open arms. With their encouragement, she chose her own name (Toriel, ‘life’ in the ancient script. It seemed fitting, and besides, she liked how the vowel sounded like the one in Asgore’s name), and when she asked if she could stay with them, the answer was a resounding yes. Asgore enjoyed her company and was eager to live with his new playmate, and he was overjoyed to no longer be the only student of the stern Dr. Gaster.

Even if Toriel made a habit of avoiding Gaster as much as she could. His presence felt weird.

In the mornings, they'd wake up early and tend to the gardens. In the afternoons, they had lessons with the Royal Scientist, and at night, Asgore tutored her on all the things she had missed in class. He taught her things like how to use a knife and fork, how to read and write, and how to dance. In return, she taught him magic. The lessons were cozy, often done by lamplight under the covers or in a blanket fort, and Toriel loved them - loved learning, loved listening, loved Asgore. 

She asked his parents about it, about him, and received two knowing smiles and two expressions of loving approval. Obviously, she knew, the next step was to get married. She told him as much. He didn't believe her at first, but a kiss convinced him, and soon they were wed.

She had been worried about the birth of their child, but it all went off without a hitch. Her son quickly became the second light of her life, and with the passings of Asgore’s parents, the prince (now King) loved his wife and child even more fiercely. Soon, little Asriel was walking and speaking, and then he brought home Chara.

The human was obviously injured, in both body and soul. Asgore was initially in favor of sacrificing them to break the Barrier, but Toriel couldn't bear to let him harm one of her creations, and Asriel would be upset if his new friend died. It only took a little bit of persuasion (and a knowing reference to how they had met) to change her husband’s mind, and soon, Chara was made a member of the family.

Unfortunately, that didn't last.

First Chara fell ill, then Asriel turned to dust before her eyes. Before, those deaths wouldn't have meant anything to her. Now, they left aching hollows she knew would never be filled.

 _This is the downside to being close_ , her mind whispered. _You knew they would leave you._

 _Yes, but I didn't think it would be so soon!_ she wailed in return.

Neither she nor Asgore left the house for quite some time. But where their children’s deaths left Toriel drowning in emptiness and sorrow, they instead caked around Asgore’s heart, hardening it and changing him, until he was no longer the man she had fallen for.

When he proclaimed to his subjects that, as penance for his son’s death, all humans were to be executed without exception, she couldn't bear it anymore. Where closeness failed, she returned to what had always protected her before - distance. Maybe the deaths would no longer hurt so much if she ran as far from them as she could. Maybe, by taking care of any humans who fell into the Ruins, she could save them from the man who had once been her husband, and instead give them what joy she could.

Six deaths later, she knew that was useless. Every life that had touched her hurt just as much when it extinguished, whether it was near her or far away. 

The one spot of light in her life was her pun buddy, on the other side of the door. The skeleton was clever, sweet, and caring, always going on about how brave and cool his brother was, when he wasn't busy making her laugh like she hadn't done in ages. Sometimes, though, he was quieter, more somber, and it was on one of those days that she felt it. 

The energy her buddy had brought with him, the magic she could feel on the other side of the door, was unmistakeable. It belonged to her counterpart, after all.

She hadn't wanted to bring the mood down any farther, but she dragged the words out nonetheless. “Can you promise me something?”

On the other side of the door, a sigh. There was a pause, like he was dragging a palm down the side of his face. “i really don't like making promises, lady.”

That made sense. After all, when one was compelled to follow through on every promise one made, it would follow that one would avoid making as many promises as possible. “I know. But, please. I would not ask if it were not important.”

“alright, shoot.”

She chose her words carefully. “If you see a human, passing through… Can you take care of them, for me?”

Another pause, as he debated with himself. Finally, another sigh, heavy with finality. “okay, lady. i can do that.”

“Can you promise?”

“...yeah. I promise.”

When Toriel left the door that day, it was with a heart that felt a little lighter. She knew she could trust the skeleton behind the door to take care of her children.

After all, if Life couldn't trust Death to reach where she could not, then who could she trust?


End file.
